


After the Fire

by Maria_Magdalena



Category: Firefly, Grantchester (TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fire, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:00:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25723993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maria_Magdalena/pseuds/Maria_Magdalena
Summary: Sidney Chambers rescues the widow Inara Reynolds and her son Simon from their burning cottage. Sidney cares for Inara and want to take care of her and her son, but she keeps him at an arm's length. When Inara finds herself in mortal danger, the only person she can turn to is the handsome vicar of Grantchester.
Relationships: Malcolm Reynolds/Inara Serra, Sidney Chambers & Geordie Keating, Sidney Chambers/Other(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3
Collections: Angst and Hurt/Comfort Prompts





	After the Fire

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [WoeyLeaf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WoeyLeaf/pseuds/WoeyLeaf) in the [angstandhcprompts](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/angstandhcprompts) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> Any fandom:
> 
> Write something where someone's house gets burned down or an incident involving fire, that's it. The rest is to your imagination.

Sidney was awoken by the second time this week by Dickens jumping up on his bed and barking almost right into his ear. He pushed the enthusiastic puppy off his chest and looked at the clock on his bedside table. Six am. He considered going back to bed and putting a pillow over his head to block everything out, but that was before he smelled the smoke. 

He thrust aside the drapes covering his bedroom window and looked outside. The sun was just starting to rise over the mountains but the clouds were marred by black smoke and orange flames. Even from the vicarage, he could see the blazing fire.

Without stopping to change out of his pajamas, Sidney ran out of the house with Dickens right at his heels. He had slipped on his loafers without socks. Leonard was already at the front yard, also in his pajamas, but he wore a dressing gown over it. 

"Sidney." The curate's eyes were wide with panic. "I think that's the Petunia Cottage, the one Mrs. Reynolds and her boy are renting."

Sidney didn't think twice. He just took off running toward the cottage. Only a little more than a quarter kilometer from the vicarage. He passed by onlookers who called out their morning greetings, but didn't stop for anyone. It occurred to him later that he could have gotten there faster on his bicycle, but his only thought at the time was to get there as soon as he could. 

By the time he reached the cottage, the fire brigade hadn't yet arrived, but the neighbors were out and about, trying to put out the flames with buckets of water and their garden hoses. He searched the crowd for Mrs. Reynolds and her son, and was immediately alarmed when he couldn't find them. He did manage to locate Mrs. Blakeley, their housekeeper, and she was watching the house, coughing and sobbing into her handkerchief.

Sidney shouldered his way through the crowd and managed to get in front of the housekeeper. He put a hand on her upper arm to get her attention. "Margaret, where are Mrs. Reynolds and Simon? Why aren't they out here?

"They're still inside," the old woman sobbed. "I called and called and neither of them answered. I wanted to go up to their rooms, but it had gotten so smoky in there."

"Jesus," Sidney muttered. He scanned the area around him until he found a woman wearing a shawl around her shoulders. He asked if he could borrow it, took it without waiting for her answer, and soaked it in a bucket of water. He tied it around the lower half of his face before going up to the house and kicking in the front door.

"Mr. Chambers, don't go in there!" a chorus of his parishioners cried as he rushed into the burning home.

Inside, he was immediately disoriented because of the black smoke and the flames burning in the kitchen. He knew where the stairs were, however, and bounded straight for them, taking two steps at a time. When he reached the landing, he immediately started calling their names.

"Inara! Simon! Are you here?"

When Sidney received no reply, he ran toward Inara's bedroom and found that her drapes were on fire, but she wasn't in there. He eyed the bedroom closet and checked it just to be sure, using a pillowcase to protect himself from the hot doorknob. He didn't really understand what he was seeing at first until he realized it was someone with a pillowcase covering their head, tied to a chair.

Sidney pulled off the pillowcase and found Inara in tears, desperately trying to get herself free. Her hands were bound behind her and her ankles were tied to the legs of the chair. She also had a gag keeping her from speaking. She panicked at first because she didn't recognize him due to the shawl that covered the lower half of his face, but she must have seen his hair and eyes even in the dimness of the closet and realized who he was. She stopped struggling.

He immediately took the gag off and began to work on the knots that bound her to the chair. 

"Sidney!" she cried."Sidney, oh my God, you came. We have to find Simon! Hurry!" She coughed violently. "In the en-suite bathroom, Malcolm has a razor in the medicine cabinet behind the mirror. Go get it."

The closet was quickly filling up with smoke as the fire had reached the headboard of Inara's bed. Sidney rushed into the bathroom, grabbed the razor, and set Inara free. She was still in her nightgown.

"Are you alright?" Sidney demanded as he quickly scanned her for obvious injuries.

"Let's go get Simon!" she sobbed, grabbing his arm.

The two of them rushed into the bedroom across the hallway after Sidney kicked in the door. Simon was on his bed, under the covers. Sidney prayed to God that he was just sleeping as Inara began to wail with grief next to him.

"I've got him," Sidney muttered. He picked up the six-year-old boy and carried him against his chest with both arms. "He's unconscious, but alive. We have to get out of here now."

The urgency in Sidney's voice must have woken up something in Inara because she was suddenly on the move. She led the way toward the stairs, covering her nose and mouth with the crook of her arm.

When they reached the first floor, Sidney discovered that the fire had reached the living room, blocking their way to the front door. In front of them, however, was a large picture window. Sidney searched the surrounding area for something to break the glass with.

On the other side of the glass, Mike Ramsey, the postman, appeared with a lawn chair. "Chambers, stand back!"

Sidney put his arm around Inara's shoulders and cradled her to him before turning away from the window. The lawn chair crashed through and landed behind him. 

He passed Simon to his mother and wrapped the drapes around his arm, so he could break the sharp edges of the glass and they could go through safely. He handed Inara and Simon to Mike Ramsay and George Flanagan, who carefully guided them out. 

Sidney jumped out of the window just as the furnace under the stairs exploded. The force of it blew out all the glass from the other windows and propelled him a few feet from the house. He rolled onto the wet grass and covered his head with his arms.

When his ears stopped ringing, Leonard was at his side, helping him up to his feet. Sidney staggered a little as he attempted to stand on his own, but his friend kept him from falling down. "Where are Inara and Simon?"

"Mrs. Reynolds," Leonard said pointedly, "and her son are at the ambulance being checked out. The boy had fainted from smoke inhalation, but he's awake now." 

Sidney nodded in thanks and allowed Leonard to lead him to the base of a tree about fifty yards from the house. His friend helped him sit down, fetched him a glass of water, then left him to attend to others. A few people standing nearby to help put out the fire had gotten hurt when the furnace exploded.

The fire brigade had also arrived. They had bigger hoses with stronger water pressure. The firemen told the neighbors to turn off their hoses because they needed all the water in the area that they could get. Thanks to their timely arrival, the blaze did not affect other homes in the neighborhood, but the Petunia Cottage was gone for good.

Sidney watched the chaos unfold, slowly drinking the glass of water Leonard had provided him. His lungs burned and head hurt from all the smoke he inhaled while he was inside the house. His gaze ventured to where Inara sat at the back of the ambulance, being treated by the paramedics, and his stomach turned into knots.

Someone had assaulted her and tied her up before setting the house on fire. Whoever it was meant to kill her and Simon. Who would want to hurt a young widow and her sickly son?

Sidney nearly jumped out of his skin when Mrs. Johnson appeared in front of him and snatched her shawl back. "Oh, what have you done with my mother's shawl?" she cried in dismay. "Honestly, Mr. Chambers, this is beyond the pale. It's covered in soot. And I don't know if I'll ever get the smell of smoke out!"

Sidney tried to tell the old librarian that he could replace it and get her a new one, but she said it was cashmere and the only thing she had left of her mother. Sidney folded his arms, set them on his knees, and rested his forehead against them. Alright, so he earned the ire of one librarian, but saved two lives. He'd call that a win.

"Sidney John Chambers! What on earth are you doing out and about in your pajamas? Have you no shame?" Mrs. Chapman demanded of him. She thrust his dressing gown under his nose. "Put this on this instant. You're practically naked!"

Sidney didn't think he was practically naked since he was wearing a pajama top and bottoms, both made of flannel, and they covered him more than adequately. But he didn't have the strength to argue with his housekeeper just now. Though he was still a little dizzy, he managed to get up, coughing into his elbow as he did.

"My boy," Mrs. C said, helping him into his dressing gown. "What am I going to do with you? I thought I told you, no more jumping into fires."

Sidney hugged her and kissed the top of her head even as she protested and tried to wiggle out of his hold. "Mrs. Reynolds and her son are in grave danger, Mrs. C. Someone tied up Mrs. Reynolds and put her in the closet before deliberately setting the house on fire. That's why I had to go in there."

"But who would do that? She's such a lovely, kind woman." Mrs. C's brown eyes were wide over her mouth and nose, which she had covered with her hand. "She's from Spain, you know. Their people have such fiery tempers. Maybe she had a jealous suitor who felt spurned when she married poor Captain Reynolds."

Sidney gave her a reproachful look. "This is real life, Mrs. C, not a radio drama serial on the BBC." He glanced at where Inara still sat, talking to the paramedics. She had a blue blanket over her shoulders and she was sobbing. He ached to go to her. "I should check on Mrs. Reynolds and see if she needs anything. She'll have to talk to Geordie and report the incident this morning."

Mrs. C slapped his shoulder. "Mr. Chambers, what will people think when they see you walking around in your pajamas, talking to a woman in her nightgown without her husband present?"

Sidney stared incredulously at her. "Mrs. C, I ran here first thing this morning and dashed into her house to save her and her son or they would have burned alive. Hang the bloody people!"

Mortified, Mrs. C looked over both her shoulders to make sure no one had heard them. "These people are your parishioners, Mr. Chambers, or have you forgotten?"

"And you seem to have forgotten that the reason her husband isn't here is his death," Sidney muttered, pushing his hair out of his eyes with the base of his palm. 

Captain Malcolm Reynolds of the Royal Navy was part of a minesweeping operation near the waters of Northern Ireland and his ship was there to recover a supposedly inactive moored mine. The mine went off and killed all of the seventy-five crewmen on board. There was not even much of the ship left to recover.

"All I ask, Mr. Chambers, is that you stop running into burning buildings at every opportunity." The housekeeper's lower lip trembled and her eyes filled with tears. "We need you around, you stupid man."

Sidney chuckled and gave the old woman a side squeeze. "Alright, I promise not to run into anymore burning buildings unless there's someone there in need of rescue."

Mrs C gaped at him. "But--"

"Oh, here's Geordie," Sidney announced with relief.

Detective Inspector Keating's black 1954 Singer Sedan pulled up nearly to where Sidney and Mrs. C stood. He got out of the car wearing his homburg and brown trench coat and surveyed the chaos before him. 

"Oh my, what a shame," he declared with dismay, taking off his hat for a moment. "How old is the Petunia cottage, Mrs. C? About a hundred and fifty, give or take? It was an institution, this house. Famous writers and artists have lived here."

"Geordie, I need to talk to you," Sidney said grimly. "The fire was set deliberately."

The detective inspector focused on him with a raised eyebrow. "How did you ferret that out, Chambers?" 

Mrs. C surveyed both of them from head to toe with a disapproving frown. "Well, I better go see Mrs. Reynolds. She and her son will need a place to stay for the time being." She touched Sidney's arm. "I'll fix your room up for her and the sofa for you, shall I?"

She turned away, leaving Sidney staring at her. "I'm beginning to suspect that the woman can read minds and it frightens me to my very core," he said to Geordie.

"Believe me, all women have that ability," his friend said with a shudder. "So what gives, vicar? What makes you think that this is a case of arson and not just electrical malfunction or a candle too close to the drapes?"

"Well, the furnace exploded for one thing." Sidney imagined that if they'd been in the house a few seconds longer, the three of them might have gotten killed. "Secondly, I found Mrs. Reynolds in the closet tied up and gagged with a pillowcase over her head. It's safe to say, Inspector, that someone is trying to kill them."

"Bloody hell!" Geordie eyed Sidney's outfit with speculation. "And what were you doing here so early in the morning in your jammies, Mr. Chambers?"

He could hear the leer in Geordie's tone and restrained himself from making a rude remark. "I saw the fire from my bedroom window and ran over here as fast as I could, alright?"

Geordie folded his arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes at him. "Nothing at all to do with the fact that the victim is the delectable Mrs. Inara Reynolds?"

Sidney bristled from his friend's teasing. "Geordie, you know I would have done it for any of my parishioners and have, in fact."

The inspector scratched his chin as though in deep thought. "Well, this is the third burning building on my count. You seem to be making a habit of it, vicar."

"Don't even joke about that, Geordie," Sidney said with a groan. "Let's go talk to Mrs. Reynolds before the ambulance takes them away."

Geordie gives him a playful punch on the arm. "Don't you mean _Inara_?"

Sidney felt his face heat up and not from the fire. "Shut up, Geordie."

By the time the police arrived, some of the crowd had already dispersed and the only ones that remained were the firemen, close neighbors, paramedics, and true busybodies. He found Mrs. C sitting next to Inara at the back door of the ambulance. She was holding the younger woman's hand and telling her everything is going to be all right. Mr. Chambers and Inspector Keating would find the culprit and she would have nothing to be afraid of anymore.

"I am so grateful for your generosity," the widow was saying through her sobs. "Everything has been so difficult ever since Malcolm's death and now this…"

The agony in her voice broke Sidney's heart. He stood there alone, watching the two women embrace. Geordie had gone to talk to the fire chief. Sidney longed to be the one to comfort Inara, but he knew it wouldn't be appropriate.

"Poor woman," said Leonard, clapping Sidney's back. "Her uncle died just last week, you know. I heard he practically raised her. Left her quite a bit of money. With Captain Reynolds's tragic death last year, Simon's asthma, and now this…"

Chewing on the inside of his cheek, Sidney turned to the curate. "Where did you hear that? About the money, I mean, and the dead uncle?" 

Inara didn't mention anything to him when he came to see her last week. As far as he knew, Simon was her last living blood relative. Her parents and siblings had died in the war and she had lived with a maiden aunt until her marriage to Captain Reynolds, who was originally from Cambridge. The aunt passed away two years ago.

"From the neighbors," Leonard said dismissively. "You know what a well of information they can be if one only knows how to ask the right questions. Not that I indulge in gossip myself. Terrible pastime."

"Quite so. I'll talk to you later, Leonard." Sidney left the curate and headed for Inara who was being hoisted up to the ambulance. "Wait," he said to a paramedic about to close the door.

The female paramedic lifted inquiring eyebrows, but stepped aside and opened the door again with some reluctance. "Sir, Mrs. Reynolds and the child both require immediate help in hospital."

"It'll be just a minute." Sidney poked his head in the ambulance where Inara was sitting on a long bench along the side, her dark head lowered and hands clasped together in her lap. Simon was on a cot with an oxygen mask on his face and a male paramedic nearby with a breathing bag pumping air for him. "I'll come see you at hospital. I'll just get cleaned up and see to a couple of things, then I'll be right there."

She raised her head just enough to meet his gaze. "It's better that you don't, Sidney. I don't want you involved in this. Please, just stay away." The look in her hazel eyes was bleak.

_"Inara…"_

The female paramedic put a firm hand on Sidney's shoulder. "Sir, we really must go. The child needs urgent care." 

Sidney allowed himself to be pulled out of the ambulance and stepped back as the paramedic closed the doors. Inara rejected his help. With a heavy heart, he could only watch as the ambulance drove away.

Geordie returned to his side. "Fire chief has some theories. Petrol was used as an accelerant. He'll have more information for us tomorrow. He said a small homemade bomb must have been planted in the furnace and detonated from somewhere else."

Sidney mulled over what his friend just told him. "Geordie, that means whoever did it was standing in the crowd, watching the whole thing. When he or she saw that we were about to escape the house, they detonated the bomb."

"Good God," Geordie said with a harsh exhale. "Inara Reynolds and her son are in immediate danger. We must get to hospital right away. The killer may try and follow them there."

They drove back to the vicarage so they could drop off Mrs. Chapman and Leonard, and Sidney could change his clothes. After enduring a short lecture from his housekeeper about putting himself in danger to rescue others, he and Geordie rushed through breakfast and jumped back into the car to head to hospital.

Geordie had called the station from the vicarage and requested that a uniform be posted outside of the Reynolds' room. He had to explain to his chief that an active arsonist had specifically targeted the widow and he had yet to be caught.

Sidney wanted to see Inara first, so he asked Geordie to stay outside for a moment. She was sitting on a chair next to the bed where Simon lay with an oxygen mask over his nose and mouth. Her head was down, hands were folded on her lap, and she was whispering.

Sidney realized that she was praying. Inara had been born and raised Catholic, but had been attending Sidney's church regularly since she and Simon moved to Grantchester a few months ago. The closest Catholic church was too far for the two of them to travel to.

"Inara," he said her name softly and as always, savored each syllable that rolled off his tongue.

She raised her head and for a moment, appeared frightened, her cat-like eyes darted around the room with worry. When they finally settled on him, she smiled for an instant before her face turned sorrowful.

"What are you doing here, Mr. Chambers?" she whispered fiercely. "I told you I don't want you here."

Sidney took another chair next to the door and placed it next to her. He sat there so they were face to face. "Did you really think I'd listen? I care very much about you and Simon, Inara. Especially now that you have some maniac trying to kill you." He tried to hold her hands, but she pulled them out of his reach.

"Sidney, I'm not who you think I am. She turned away from him and wrapped her arms around herself. "That's why you have to stay far away from me. You'd only get hurt."

He put his hand on her shoulder and she cringed as though his touch weighed a stone. "I don't care what happens to me. I want to protect you and Simon."

The look in her eyes when she faced him again was stricken. "Well, if you don't give a damn about yourself, Sidney, I do. This man who is after me--he's very dangerous. He won't stop until my son and I are dead. And if you get in the way, he won't hesitate to kill you, too."

"Inara." He squeezed her upper arm even as she resisted. "You do know that Inspector Keating of Cambridge CID is my best friend, right? He and I will do everything in our power to find this madman and stop him for good. Who is he?

Inara dropped her head in her hands and wept. Sidney pulled out a handkerchief from his suit jacket pocket and gave it to her. He allowed her to cry until she began to hiccup, then he excused himself to get her some water. When he returned to the room, Geordie was sitting on his seat and Inara was wiping her tears dry with his handkerchief. Sidney handed her the glass of water, then hung back to stand behind Geordie.

"Mrs. Reynolds, am I correct in assuming that you know the man who assaulted you and set your house on fire?" Geordie asked in a gentle tone.

"Yes." She nodded miserably. She met Sidney's eyes for a moment, then dropped her gaze to the floor. "His name is Clifford Armstead. He is the son of a man I used to know. He has always hated me to the point of obsession, but now that his father has died…"

"Your uncle?" Sidney prompted helpfully.

She shook her head. "I lied to you, Sidney. I'm not the respectable woman you think I am. I'm sorry if I've misled you."

Geordie looked at Sidney, then at Inara, then back at Sidney again. He made a head gesture for the vicar to close the door. "What do you mean by that, Mrs. Reynolds?"

Sidney obeyed Geordie and leaned against the door, folding his arms over his chest. He didn't know what to think at the moment, but knew that Inara was in a lot of pain and he wanted to comfort her.

"I was raised by my aunt, my father's sister, in Paris after my parents died. I went to the finest women's college in France. I was trained in fine arts, comportment, and studied literature, history, and foreign languages." She paused to take a breath. "I had no idea how my aunt was financing my education as my parents were not wealthy and she herself married a modest solicitor, who died when I was a girl. At eighteen, I returned to my aunt's townhouse in Paris and discovered the source of her income."

Geordie looked over his shoulder at Sidney, who merely nodded. They both dreaded what they were about to hear. "What was it?" 

Inara bit her lower lip as though she was having second thoughts about continuing her story. After a beat, she started again. "My aunt ran a gentleman's establishment where men of a certain class could visit and my aunt would have young ladies on site to entertain them. I had no idea this was going on because she kept her business and private lives completely separate. That is, until I was out with my aunt one day, and we ran to an old friend of hers: an academic who was the preeminent advisor to the French Prime Minister at the time, Chevalier Charles Armstead. He was very dashing and handsome, about twenty-five years older than me."

She eyed both men. "I know what you're thinking. My aunt didn't sell me to Charles. But when he offered for me, it was to be my protector, not a husband because he was already married. I was so in love with him that I agreed. Charles then repaid my aunt for the money she spent raising and schooling me. I was happy with Charles. It all ended when I got pregnant four years later. I couldn't allow scandal to touch Charles, so I broke it off with him. In turn, he introduced me to Captain Reynolds. Mal was enamored with me and wanted to marry me to protect my reputation."

"Did you love your husband?" Sidney wanted to know.

Inara looked at him as though he had slapped her. "Of course I did. I do. He was a kind, gallant, and noble man. He loved and cared for Simon as though my boy were his flesh and blood. He never treated me with anything less than respectful. Malcolm and I were in love."

She cupped her elbows with her hands and leaned forward, a woman about to impart a secret. "After Mal died, I found out that while he had left us some money, it wouldn't be enough for us to live on. I would have to work." She lowered her voice, seemingly embarrassed. "I've never had a job before. Charles heard of my situation and set up a generous monthly allowance for me and Simon without expecting anything in return because by then, he was already very sick with cancer."

"I had no idea he had changed his will in our favor before he died. He left the bulk of his liquid assets to me and Simon, plus his villa in Montmartre. Clifford received the rest of his estates and the two wineries. Clifford was… furious. He vowed to contest the will in court, but Charles had anticipated that and made sure it was iron-clad."

"So he's angry with you because his father left you the money he thought was supposed to go to him?" Geordie concluded with disgust.

Inara shook her head, tears flowing down her cheeks. "No. He hates me because he used to be in love with me and I rejected him. After I broke it off with his father, he pursued me, but I chose to marry Malcolm, instead. The will, as far as he's concerned, is just another insult to injury."

Sidney felt sick to his stomach. Men have desired Inara for years because of her beauty and now, he was just one in a line of them panting after her. He had to do better. He had to be better. Inara was all he thought about these days and she occupied his thoughts all day and night. He was sick in love with her. He drank just a little bit more these days because he couldn't have her. He could see how a man's unrequited desire for her could be corrupted.

"Clearly you've earned his enmity, Mrs. Reynolds," said Geordie. "But enough for him to tie you up and leave you in your house to burn alive?"

Inara looked at him with confusion. "Do you not believe me, Inspector?" She seemed to collapse into herself. "When his mother found out about me and Charles, she ended her life."

"Oh, God." Geordie sat back in his chair and dragged his hand down his face. "You'll need constant police protection until we catch this man."

"I've been thinking about it, Inspector," she ventured warily. "I have a girlfriend out in Canada who runs a school for girls and has repeatedly invited me to join her. With the money that Simon and I have, we could easily start over there, don't you agree?"

Sidney's heart dropped to the bottom of his stomach. She had mentioned her friend in Canada to him before, but he didn't think it was something she was considering as a plan of action. He thought she was planning on staying in Grantchester.

"We will catch this bastard, Mrs. Reynolds," Geordie assured her. "Then you won't have to worry about him anymore."

Inara nodded and smiled at him gratefully, then switched her gaze to Sidney. "Mrs. Chapman invited me and Simon to stay at the vicarage until we can find a new living situation, but I think we should stay in a hotel, instead. I don't want to put any of you in danger."

Sidney sighed in despair. He was losing control of the situation. He needed a drink. He glared at Geordie, who was writing something in his notebook. Inara was right, of course. He didn't want to put Mrs. Chapman and Leonard in harm's way. They were too important to him.

"I can have a female constable stay with you and your son until we catch this Armstead fellow, Mrs. Reynolds." Geordie returned his notebook and pen to the inside pocket of his sports jacket. "And I'll have a few of them alternating in shifts at your door till you leave hospital."

\----

The next night, Sidney visited Inara and Simon at the Drake, a luxury hotel in downtown Cambridge with good security. Eschewing Geordie's invitation to go to the pub after the hospital, he opted to go home, stay in his office for the evening, and drink a fifth of his best scotch, while listening to Sidney Bechet in the dark.

He showered, shaved, and put on his civilian clothing. He'd woken up on the couch this morning with the sun in his eyes and Mrs. Chapman hoovering angrily around him. He had one hell of a headache and his mouth tasted like dirty socks. Mrs. C said she had eggs and toast waiting for him in the kitchen, along with hot black coffee, though he didn't really deserve anything because he was a lousy, no-good drunk.

He avoided Leonard's eyes on his way out of the door and muttered something that sounded like words when his friend asked how he was doing.

Sidney rode his bicycle to the Drake and secured it on the bike racks along the side of the building. It was a nice summer evening. Not too hot, not too cool. It was the perfect night for a pair of lovers to stroll under the moonlight. Sidney _yearned…_

He went to the concierge who hesitated to tell him what suite Inara and Simon were staying in, but Sidney told him he was their spiritual advisor and had requested his presence. The concierge escorted him to the lift bank and told him they were on the fifth floor. Sidney thanked him and stepped into the lift.

When he got onto the fifth floor, he headed for room 525. Outside was a constable in uniform, one he recognized as Randall Smith. He was new to the force and his parents had been Sidney's parishioners for years. He was young, eager, and earnest, in that healthy, farm-bred way.

"Vicar," he said by way of greeting. "I wasn't told you were coming."

Sidney put on his most disarming smile. "I'm a personal friend of Mrs. Reynolds. I told her I was stopping by to check on her and the boy. She must have forgotten."

"She has a lot on her mind right now, poor lady," Constable Smith said sadly, shaking his head. He took off his hat. "I heard there was nothing of hers that was left. Everything burned down."

Sidney nodded. He and Geordie visited the site this morning along with the fire chief. As it turned out, someone had come back sometime during the night the previous evening and torched the very little that was left untouched by the fire. He had meant to bring her some of her books because she'd been collecting them all of her life, but they were all gone. Her life with Simon there was just gone. Her clothes, books, Simon's toys, and all of their memorabilia had gone up in literal smoke.

He remembered that one of her favorite books was "A Farewell to Arms" by Ernest Hemingway. He had an autographed copy given to him by Leonard a few birthdays ago. Leonard had acquired it from a friend who owned a used bookstore in New York. He had that book now wrapped up in shiny brown paper with a thin red bow tied around it.

Constable Jessica Lewis had a couple of years on Constable Smith and was every bit the picture of a modern-day policewoman. She kept her blond hair short, her steely gray eyes never smiled with her mouth, and she was lean and tall. She said she came from a family of police officers who didn't take her seriously when she told them she wanted to join the force and didn't think she'd actually do it. She wanted to prove that she could be just as good at policing as her father and brothers, if not better.

She opened the door after Sidney knocked a couple of times and scanned him from head to toe with her cold, gray eyes. She was dressed as a civilian in a white blouse with a collar, a light blue knitted jumper, and black trousers. "Good evening, Mr. Chambers. Is Mrs. Reynolds expecting you?"

"Let him in, Jessica," said Inara's soft, smoky voice from somewhere behind the constable. 

Sidney sighed in relief as the constable stepped aside and allowed him into the suite. There were two queen-sized beds inside, side by side. Inara and Simon occupied the one by the window and the constable had the bed closest to the door. Her bed was still made and a small blue suitcase was on top of it.

"Jessica, I think you should go get yourself some dinner now." Inara reached for her purse and began to dig in. "Here, let me--"

The constable stopped her. "Thank you, Mrs. Reynolds. The station provided me with spending money. I'll be at the deli next door. If you need anything, just let Smith know and he can radio me." She lifted her blue jumper and patted the portable radio clipped to the waistband of her trousers. 

"Thank you, Jessica," said Inara with a kind smile.

The overly serious constable nodded and left the suite. 

There was a small table with two chairs facing each other by the window. Sidney headed for it and sat down in one of the chairs without waiting for an invitation. His hostess asked him if he wanted a drink. He declined.

"How's he doing?" He nodded toward a sleeping Simon, whom Inara had cradled to her side.

"He's better," she replied with some difficulty as her voice began to break. "The amount of smoke he inhaled triggered an asthma attack. He could have died, Sidney."

With her dark, curly hair pulled back in a long braid and her face scrubbed clean of makeup, she looked younger than her twenty eight years. He ached to hold her in his arms. "Inara, why didn't you tell me?"

"Tell you what, Sidney?" she demanded of him. "About my past? So you could play Jesus to my Mary Magdalene? I'm trying to build a new life for me and my son."

"I didn't understand before, why you were reluctant to…" Sidney began.

"To get intimate with you?" She wiped off the tears threatening to roll down her cheeks with the tip of her finger and laughed softly. "Sidney, my husband, whom I loved very much, just died. I still mourn him every day. When I started to have feelings for you, it felt like I was betraying _him_ …"

"But knowing you and having you around these last few months have been a blessing. You have made getting up in the morning easier. You've brought light to me and Simon." She reached out to touch his face.

Sidney turned his head and kissed her palm. "I rushed you, Inara. I'm sorry. I just want you to know that I'm here for you and Simon. I want to take care of you."

"All my life, men have wanted to take care of me for one reason or another, Sidney," she said, pulling her hand back firmly. "But really, it's just another method of controlling me." She gazed at something beyond his shoulder and a far-away look came over her eyes. "My father used to say I was a wildflower that couldn't be contained in a garden."

Sidney believed that about her. Her beauty was not that of a common rose. Her skin was the color of honey; her mouth was full and plump like strawberries, and her black hair was thick and curly, decidedly unEnglish. There was just something untamed about her and it fascinated him to no end. He had never met anyone like her before.

"He burned our house, Sidney," she cried, letting loose her emotions in a mournful wail. "All of my books, Simon's toys, photos I've collected over the years, my memories of Malcolm… they're all gone, lost in that blaze."

Sidney moved to sit next to her on the bed and gathered her in his arms. "I'm so sorry, Inara. I'm so sorry this happened to you." He couldn't think of anything else to say.

Usually he had a ready verse from the Bible to recite for situations such as these, but his mind had gone blank. Inara rested his cheek on his shoulder and he held her tight as she cried, stroking her back. He told her that he and Geordie would find Clifford Armstead and put him away for good. He told her he would protect her and Simon with his life.

He couldn't tell if Inara believed him, but she slipped her arms around his neck and relaxed against him. He felt the tension in her spine ease as she seemed to mold herself into him. Taking a deep breath, he told his body to behave and kept his own burgeoning desires under tight control. Inara needed his comfort and friendship, nothing else. 

"He destroyed everything," she sobbed, tightening her hold on him. "Sidney, he almost killed us. _Oh my God_ , if you hadn't come when you did-- if you hadn't been there--"

Sidney pulled back and cupped her face in his hands. "But I was. I was there in time. You and Simon are alive and that's all that matters."

"Oh, Sidney." She buried her face in his neck again. "What are we going to do? Everything is gone."

Sidney swept the loose strands of her hair from her face. "You will rebuild. I'll help you. Inara, what Armstead took from you are things. They can be replaced. You have your health and you have Simon."

She lifted her head, gave him a wobbly smile, and leaned forward to kiss his cheek. "You are a good man, Sidney Chambers. I don't deserve your attention or regard."

Sidney chuckled softly and pressed his lips to her forehead. "You deserve all of it and more. You are wonderful, Inara. You are kind, smart, and generous." He eased away from her so he could reach into the pocket of his jacket and give her the wrapped package. "Just a little something to restart your book collection." When she hesitated, he put it on her lap. "Open it."

"Oh." Her hands shook as they tugged at the ribbon and tore away at the wrapping. Once the gift was unveiled, she gasped. "Thank you, it's one of my favorite books!"

Sidney smiled, his spirits lifting at the sight of her smile. "Take a look inside."

She flipped open the cover and covered her mouth with her fingers. "Oh, my! It's autographed." She looked up at him, her eyes once again brimming with tears. "This is yours, isn't it? Sidney, I can't accept this."

"I've read it at least five times," he said dismissively, pressing it into her hand. "I want you to have it now."

She held it to her chest and hugged it. "Thank you. I shall treasure it always. Oh, Sidney." She threw her arms around his neck again, dropping the book between them.

Sidney embraced her tightly and kissed her hair. "You're welcome, Inara." He kissed her temple. "I'll protect you and Simon, I swear it. Trust me."

"I do."


End file.
